


Rise of the Justice Cabal

by dornishsphinx



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 09:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dornishsphinx/pseuds/dornishsphinx
Summary: When Cynthia, a masked vigilante carrying on her mother's legacy, discovers that her secret love, the dashing Prince Owain, is absent from a royal parade, she is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery. Well, eventually, anyway - right after she helps Missiletain, a fellow vigilante, solve his burglary case. Could it be the work of the famed thief, Sticky-Fingers?  Will true love prevail? And did Laslow really manage to find a date? Find out, only in the pages of JUSTICE CABAL!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for xxchimericalxx during the 2016 Valentine's Day exchange organised by fe-gift-exchange over on tumblr.

Ylisstol sprawled beneath her. Even as high up as she was, balancing on a jutting wyvern’s-head gargoyle, she could feel the heat of the market’s cooking pots wafting upwards, carrying the delicious smells of fatty festival food.

Cynthia tore off another bite of toffee apple, deep within her own thoughts, while Mahnya crunched her own treat behind her.

The royal procession had gone off without a hitch, the Exalt being greeted with a thousand cheers and ten-thousand smiles. She’d caught the barest glimpse of her mother on his left flank alongside Dame Cordelia, ever watchful and alert. The queen had been beside him, as she always was. Princess Lucina had been on the second palanquin, her younger siblings on the third, Princess Lissa and her husband on the fourth. Then the final palanquin had trundled past, empty, generating ripples of respectful silence for the former Exalt in its wake.

She’d mentally gone over the procession order several times. She hadn’t been imagining it. Prince Owain was missing. His parents’ palanquin had clearly been built for three, yet he had not been there, smiling and waving as he usually did.

Had there been a kidnapping the royal family wanted to keep quiet? The Grimleal cult returned, this time needing a sacrifice with exalted blood? Her mind raced. If that were so, she would need to rescue him! It would be her duty as both a hero and an Ylissean subject - not that she’d need either reason to save him. She smiled wistfully as she thought of his handsome face and kind smile and smooth voice.

“Hoy there, Fee the Valiant!“ Ugh. The cry was unmistakeable. Cynthia groaned - she had an investigation to begin! - but adjusted her mask and waited for him to reach her.

"What is it, Missiletain?” she asked when he reached her rooftop. “I’ll have you know I’m doing important reconnaissance work!“

"I would never impede such important deeds, fellow seeker of justice - yet I must.“

Missiletain was a fellow hero of the city, an expert swordsman and Ribald Tales of the Faith War fanatic. He’d plucked his name straight from its pages and had got excited when he picked up a reference in her own alias. (It wasn’t like she was particularly a fan of the classic, but as a legacy heroine she was obligated to continue her mother’s nerdy theme naming.)

"What’s going on?”

“A heist! It seems some nefarious individual used the royal procession as a distraction.” He grimaced. “Laslow told me about it, but he has a date tomorrow or something, so he’s handing the case to me.”

“What?! He actually got a date? Are you sure?”

It wasn’t as though she disliked Laslow, but if a cape and mask added to a man’s intrigue, he must have been a sorry individual in real life.

“Honestly, I didn’t believe it either,” said Missiletain. “But it is the only thing he’d turn down a heist for.”

She was intrigued despite herself. She inwardly promised Prince Owain she would rescue him soon before turning her attention to the man in front of her.

“So, where was it?”

***

Anna’s Bargains was located in the heart of the Caeda district, an upscale area in the city centre. Yet as they drew closer, she saw that its exterior was rather shabby.

"Hm, I like it. Cheaper than hiring real P.I.s," the merchant said, full of cheer, and suddenly, Cynthia had a good idea of why that was.

"Well, I need my goods recovered, one way or another, before my sisters catch wind of our investments being, well, shall we say temporarily displaced? Tell me, kid, do you know what the minimum Ylissean wage is?”

“Uh... no, sorry,” said Missiletain.

"Perfect,“ said the merchant. "Also, I’m not in the habit of giving out advances. You can each have a lollipop and we’ll discuss payment later. All kids like lollipops, right?” She eyed the pair keenly, her expression turning to delighted surprise when they didn’t argue.

"Um, actually, we’re heroes, so we were going to do it for - never mind."

Later, as the sun was beginning to sink, they wearily exited the shop. They’d done everything they could think of: examine the crime scene; ransack the transaction records; interrogate the assistants. They’d discovered some things, thankfully. The shopkeeper, who was actually was a member of the famed Anna clan, had made numerous enemies with her cutthroat business deals and dubious business practices. Honestly, it was surprising she’d gone this long without incident.

Cynthia sighed and twirled the lollipop in her hand. It was orange, with a little shield-emblem carved into the side.

It hit her.

***

She checked again that she hadn’t forgotten to remove her mask before knocking.

Aunt Cordelia’s house was only a few streets away from her own home. She and her mother had been an inseparable duo since their academy days, in more ways than one. Even when Cordelia had been fast-tracked to the Exalted Squadron, the pair had met up at night in the guises of Erinys and Tiamo to bring justice to evildoers from pegasus-back.

However, it wasn’t the famous Tiamo she’d come to see.

The shutter slid open, a pair of green eyes peering out at her before she heard latches being disengaged. The door swung open, revealing Uncle Gaius.

"Hey, kiddo,” he said with one of his lazy smiles. “You’ve got good timing. Severa just came back home.”

Gods damn it. She’d been hoping to find Uncle Gaius on his own. He was never comfortable bragging about his old exploits with his strictly law-abiding wife around. And Severa, well. Severa was Severa.

Once Cynthia had come inside, Uncle Gaius offered her a snack - truly a sign of affection for a beloved niece, considering he would normally cut anyone who dared even think about his sugary stash. They made light conversation for a few minutes, and Cynthia offered him the lollipop with which Anna had paid her.

“Hm? This a bribe?” asked Uncle Gaius. He wasn’t entirely wrong. She outlined why she was there quickly, in case Aunt Cordelia was due back soon.

"Are you serious?“ asked Severa, ever the exact opposite of affectionate. "Aren’t you supposed to be the goody-two-shoes?”

This was precisely why she hadn’t wanted Severa to be here. She looked suspiciously at Cynthia while Uncle Gaius twirled the lollipop thoughtfully.

Severa had always been a mystery to Cynthia. And not the fun kind, either. While she herself had been ecstatic to follow in her mother’s footsteps, so far no one had replaced Tiamo. Severa, her mother had explained gently, shouldn’t be pushed into taking a responsibility she didn’t want, especially if it would damage her relationship with her father. That had led to another host of revelations about Uncle Gaius’ torrid past as Cordelia’s old nemesis, the greatest thief in the city and a villainous cur who’d been slapped with the name Sticky Fingers.

It was precisely this skill-set she needed now.

“You wanna know how I’d go about breaking into a joint?” asked Uncle Gaius, slowly.

"Yep!“

"This doesn’t have anything to do with the break-in at Anna’s, would it?”

He knew about that? Suspicions began to rise in her mind.

“How did you know?” asked Cynthia, nervously.

"Hey, my dad had nothing to do with that!“ said Severa. "Wipe that stupid look off your stupid face!”

Uncle Gaius wiggled the lollipop before planting it in his mouth. “The Exalted Pop, she calls these. She’s sold ‘em for years, ever since the royalty got popular again. Also, she’s my supplier.”

“Supplier?!”

“Yeah. She’s the only person in the city who imports decent Valmese lavacakes before they’re past their optimal state. Besides, she’s an old friend. She helped us out a lot during the Grimleal invasion. Honestly, I was surprised to hear her shop got robbed; she knows all the tricks someone might use, probably even better than I do.”

So, they had to find a master thief. Wonderful. She sighed.

He looked over at her. “So, you looking into this for her?”

“Yeah,” she said, relenting. It was obvious he knew everything. “That was our payment.”

“Hmmm,” he said. “That’s downright generous coming from her. Well, I guess if you gave me your entire paycheck I should at least share some tips. Severa, when’s your mother coming home?”

“In a couple of hours,” Severa said, feigning nonchalance. “She said she was doing overtime. Like she doesn’t do enough already for our beloved Exalt.”

Severa adored her father’s old stories, just as much as Cynthia tried desperately to disapprove of them.

“A couple of hours? Huh, well… did I ever tell you two about the job we pulled on the Hierarch of Talys?”

***

The next day, she met up with Missiletain in the Princess Elice district in the north of the city. It was said that the Thieves’ Guild was located there, somewhere secret. Uncle Gaius had kept quiet when she’d asked about the rumours, only saying that if there was any such organisation, it would almost certainly have gone downhill lately.

“Did you know Anna helped fight the Grimleal twenty years ago?” said Missiletain, in lieu of a greeting.

"Yeah,“ said Cynthia, irritated he’d already figured that out when she’d been the one with an ex-resistance insider. But she had other info. "And she’s known around as being impossible to cheat or steal from.”

“That does narrow down the suspect list,” said Missiletain. “It would have to be someone seriously skilled. Maybe even more skilled than old Sticky Fingers! Or maybe he’s come out of retirement? Doing battle with the legend…! How magnificent the sight would be!”

Cynthia suddenly wished her mask covered her mouth so she could grimace safely. She had to keep Uncle Gaius’ name out of this, even if it was just his embarrassing old villain pseudonym. Luckily a distraction was provided for her, no doubt Naga’s blessing for her numerous good deeds.

“Well, look who it is! Fee and Missiletain, heroes of legend,” Severa shouted from across the street, raising an arm in a wave. Cynthia hadn’t known that a wave could be sarcastic before. She was laden down with shopping bags, as was the man beside her. He looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him.

Apparently, Missiletain could, though: "Inigo, on a date?“ he asked, "Is it snowing in Plegia too?”

“Ah, the famed hero Missiletain! So great to meet you! How’s the search for Inverse going?” This so-called Inigo laughed, slapping his forehead. “Oh right, I forgot, she completely showed you up in front of the entire city. Wow, I am so sorry I brought it up."

Missiletain grumbled, but Cynthia ignored the two of them. “Severa,” she said in irritation, “What are you doing here?”

“Let’s have a chat,” she muttered, grabbing Cynthia's wrist. Missiletain looked over in concern, but she shook her head. Severa was arrogant and downright nasty most of the time, but she wouldn't actively try and hurt her - physically, anyway.

She let her pull them along into the nearest quiet alley. Severa looked around, then whispered harshly, with real anger in her voice: “I told you that my dad had nothing to do with it, idiot! Why are you letting that Faith War fanboy suspect him?”

“Wait, hold up, have you been stalking us?”

“Ugh! No! Why would I want to stalk you of all people? Gods!”

“And I don’t want to think of Uncle Gaius like that!”

Severa glanced around the alley nervously. “Quiet down!”

Cynthia did so, but continued on: “We still don’t have any actual suspects, so it’s only natural he’d think of the most famous thief in the city. It’d be weirder if I denied it outright!”

Severa made a disgusted noise. “Ugh. Just quit it. It’s not my old man. Look, there’s a new gang in town I think might have had something to do with it. Anna stopped them from pressing down on some poor saps and keeps playing them on black market sales. So, they have a motive.”

“Huh? You’re looking into the case too?”

“She’s my dad’s friend! And you’d obviously just keep suspecting my dad otherwise. Don’t get any ideas about it! I’m not going to be your sidekick!”

"Good!“ said Cynthia, angry now. She couldn’t help it - whenever Severa brought it up like this, it made her blood boil. She didn’t care about helping people or living up to her mother’s name or anything! It made her sick! "I’d hate to have you as a partner!”

“Well we have one thing in common, then! Besides, you already have your boyfriend there.”

“Stop it! He’s not my boyfriend! You know I like Prince Owain!”

Severa laughed and opened her mouth to respond with something cutting before she stopped. She looked at Cynthia for a long moment. All the anger seemed to drain from her, being replaced by a confused look which soon turned to disbelief. Then: “Are you actually serious?”

Cynthia frowned. What wasn’t there to get? Severa had known about her crush on the prince for years, regrettably.

“Gods,” Severa said, resting her face in one hand. “You’re both such idiots. This is actually tragic, I don’t know whether I should be laughing or-” She stopped herself mid-sentence. “Whatever. I have a date you’re interrupting. Can you costumed nerds just do your thing somewhere else?”

“Huh? But you’re the one who interrupted-”

She was already flouncing off.

“Us. Jerk.”

***

"We shouldn’t have taken out so many of his men,“ said Missiletain, a few days later. "They’ll be suspicious now.”

“We needed to get the intel somehow,” said Laslow. “Besides, everyone thinks they were the Twins’ lackeys. Nelson’s paranoid enough to believe it.”

“Still, it would have been a sight to behold,” muttered Missiletain. “The Justice Allegiance, fighting gloriously against an army of thousands, taking them down left and right-”

“Huh? I thought we were the Justice Cabal,” said Cynthia.

"I don’t remember agreeing to either of those names,“ said Laslow. "Besides, we don’t exactly have the manpower to fight an army of thousands. Taguel’s still on his mortality kick, Humanakete’s not in the city just now and I have no idea where Minervus even is. Probably brooding on a tower somewhere.”

”-And then, we’d finally reach the cruel villain, Nelson, and finally bring down his malignant reign of terror! But at what cost?“

“Malignant reign of terror? He’s a gang-leader, not Grima.”

“You know, Laslow, you’re not being as annoying as usual,” said Cynthia. “Did your date actually go well, for once?”

“It went wonderfully. Thanks,” said Laslow. “But more than that, I’ve heard you have someone irreplaceable in your heart. And what chance does a vigilante have against a prince?”

He grinned slyly as Cynthia blushed. How had he figured that out!?

“Wait, Fee, you have a crush on one of the princes?” Missiletain looked shocked and faintly red just under where his mask stopped. “The Ylissean ones?”

“What, no, it’s the crown prince of Chon'sin,” said Laslow sarcastically. “Yes, the Ylissean ones.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she butted in. “I don’t have a crush on anybody.”

“Is that right?” said Laslow, impish grin firmly plastered on. “Because I’ve heard rumours that one of them has a crush on a certain valiant hero too-”

"That's none of your business!“ said Missiletain.

"Precisely!”

Before she could continue, Missiletain, still red - honestly, why was he getting embarrassed? Laslow had been making fun of her, not him - held up his hand in the pre-arranged signal. This was happening.

They peered over the roof’s edge. There. The gang’s leader was being accompanied out of the building by - wow, that was a lot of henchmen. He was running scared. After a closer look though, they didn’t seem to be particularly fearsome. Obviously Nelson was hoping sheer numbers would scare off any trouble.

Luckily, she didn’t scare easy.

She led Mahnya over to the edge, just to the point where they'd be out of their field of vision and no more. Missiletain and Laslow clambered on behind her, Laslow barely fitting on - where were the other fliers when you needed them? She tensed. They waited.

Missiletain signalled.

She spurred Mahnya on and plunged downwards towards the men at Nelson’s back. She saw a few faces look up in alarm, but it was far too late for them: two were quickly knocked down by Mahnya’s hooves and she got another with her lance. One swordsman charged her, but she dodged in time for Missiletain, riding pillion, to gut him.

She felt rather than saw Laslow vaulting off Mahnya’s back. He twirled around the henchmen on Nelson’s left flank, felling them with precise, rhythmic jabs of his sword like steps of a dance: one, two, three, four. Missiletain, not to be outdone, slashed his way through a few others to even the count.

She surveyed the scene. Half of the henchmen remained standing, confused and alarmed. Some were retreating inside. She heard screaming - no, those were orders. “Keep them away!” Nelson, evidently.

They were forming up now, but it was clear a lot of them had little-to-no skirmishing experience. Seizing the advantage, she set Mahnya at a flying gallop straight towards one group. She crashed into them - inelegant, but effective. The pegasus wasn’t exactly spindly and any futile swipes bounced off her body armour. Those who hadn’t got out of the way in time were simply dragged down under her hooves or knocked out of the way by her wings.

"Fee! Missiletain!“ She glanced over. Laslow was darting back to their side, slashing and stabbing his way forward. "The ones in the centre! They’re a lot better!” he shouted over the din of clanging and whinnies and screams and groans.

She looked over to where he had come from. Four henchmen were standing ready. They certainly looked meaner. Better equipped too.

"Hah! Nothing we can’t handle, Las-“

Then her heart sank. The noise was getting louder. She whipped her head around. Gang members had started streaming out of the headquarters, waving axes and swords.

She thought fast. Nelson was the target. If they could take out his guards, they could grab him and get out of there. Mahnya was faster than some surprised gang members, no matter how many of them there were.

"Laslow, hold the door!” she shouted. “We’ll take out these guys!”

He nodded and sprinted off. She weighed up the henchmen. Two had bows along with their other equipment, she noted with alarm. Some of the others had been archers, but they’d only had longbows and hadn’t got the chance to fire at close range. These were nasty looking crossbows. Her mother’s warnings echoed in her head. Pegasi and arrows - or quarrels, in this case - did not go well together.

“I’ll take out the ones with bows,” said Missiletain, leaping off the pegasus’ back and running towards them. Of course he knew.

She looked at her opponents. One had two swords, the other a gigantic axe. She went for the swordsman first, hoping to get rid of him with a quick thrust of her lance. He parried. She pulled back, ducking to avoid a sweeping axe curving through the air where her head had been. Ugh. This would have been hard enough with only one of them.

The sword came at her. She brought up her lance, hoping to spear him - she could feel a tremor; it had hit his arm. There was blood now, but she couldn’t make out the severity of the wound. One of his swords clattered down as he swiped one-handed at her. Two of his slashes connected with her side and arm. She hissed in pain, but put it out of her mind as she looked for an opening.

There.

She pushed forward. He choked out a curse and when she pulled the lance back, he fell.

The axeman, still trying his best to behead her, bellowed in rage. She felt the air currents his unwieldy swings generated ruffle her hair. Mahnya shrieked as the axe came down on her - luckily he’d hit armour, but considering the power behind the swing, it was best to assume she’d been injured anyway.

She struck out at him, but he hit the lance, pulling it wildly off course. She felt herself losing balance. She dug her heels onto the stirrups, but it was useless.

She crashed down, Mahnya following thanks to the tangled pegasus tack connecting them.

Her lance was only an arms-length away; she reached out, but recoiled as the axe plummeted between them. He’d misjudged the timing, thank Naga. It was embedded in the earth now; it would take him a few moments to prise it out, she’d have time to get away-

He dragged her upwards by the neck. He didn’t need the axe. It was suddenly clear. He had more than enough strength to take her out with his bare hands. She struggled, but between him and the pegasus tack she was tangled in there was no way to escape.

He screamed in pain as a sword came down directly between them. She fell to the ground again, winded. Missiletain’s sword flashed and the axeman came down after her with an almighty crash.

"Hey! You all right?“ he asked.

"I’m fine,” she said, though her back was aching terribly and her neck was killing her. She smiled at him and flashed a thumbs-up. “Thanks, Missiletain.”

"N-no problem,“ he stammered.

She got up - a feat which hurt so, so badly - and looked over to where he’d been. He’d knocked down one archer, who was scrabbling feebly in the dirt for her crossbow and quarrels where they lay scattered on the ground. The other was lining up a shot towards Laslow’s unprotected back.

She snatched up her lance. If she’d been on Mahnya, she could have given the command for full speed and taken the archer down herself, but all she could do was shout a warning and aim her lance like it was a javelin and pray it worked-

A huge dark shape swooped down from the sky. The archer disappeared under the bulk of a massive wyvern, the lance clattering uselessly off her scales. Minervus, it seemed, had finally shown up. After taking out the other archer, he called over to them. "Where’s the leader?”

They’d been too distracted to keep an eye on him. He was nowhere in sight. Gods damn it.

“Can you fly recon, see if he’s still on the streets?”

Minervus’ wyvern flew up and away. Well, someone was chatty as ever.

Whatever. “Nelson’s gone!” she called out to her companions. Laslow swore, punctuating his curse by violently cutting down one of the last gang members.

She looked around. Where could he have gone? There were so many nooks and crannies around here, the answer was anywhere. And unfortunately, she was proven right when Minervus wasn’t able to find him. He’d come by to tell them as such just as they’d finished tying up the ones who’d surrendered, flying off immediately afterwards before any of them could say a word in response.

"Ugh, that guy,“ said Laslow. "More like ‘gets-on-my-nerve-us’.”

He grinned when both of them groaned, before turning his attention back to their surroundings. The three of them stood in a writhing mass of groaning criminals. It had been quite the ruckus, and city guards were beginning to pour onto the scene, like ants to an abandoned biscuit.

“A pegasus?” one said.

"It must be- it is! Fee!“ said another, "And Missiletain and Laslow too!”

Laslow saluted jauntily to them and with a final farewell - “Always happy to put a smile on your faces, officers!” - he slipped off into the shadows.

Cynthia, still aching all over, just about managed a grin at them while Missiletain made a flowery speech for both of them on justice. They made a good team, she thought. Him and her.

Oh, and Laslow too, she guessed.

***

"Relax,“ said Laslow, though his voice was rather higher-pitched than normal.

"How am I supposed to relax?”

She’d been inside the royal palace before, but that had been as Dame Sumia’s daughter. Receiving royal recognition for beating up gangs as your alter-ego was something completely different.

“I- I don’t know! But you’re making me more nervous! Oh gods, I should have just blown this off like Minervus and Missiletain, I’m an idiot, why am I here, I’m going to make a fool of myself in front of every-”

“Presenting Fee and Laslow, Your Majesty.”

Laslow froze. She gently whacked him on the back to get him moving down the audience chamber with her. The assembled courtiers looked on curiously, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of them as they came forward, not helping his nerves one bit. Even she was starting to feel her legs tremble.

Exalt Chrom sat at the end of the hall, surrounded by other royals. Her mother smiled brightly at her from her place on his right hand, though she smothered it immediately after, lest any suspicion be cast upon their relationship. And there was Prince Owain, standing by his mother. He was safe after all. What a relief!

The Exalt looked at them curiously.

“So these are the ones who brought down the Riders of Dawn? Very impressive for ones so young, though rather dangerous too.”

“Hah! Have you forgotten what you got up to at their age, Chrom?” said Princess Lissa beside him.

"How can I when you remind me of it constantly?“ he said with a good-natured smile. "Forgive me. You’ve done a great service for the city and for Ylisse as a whole. You have my thanks.”

“Th-thank you, Your Majesty,” she said, not entirely sure what you did when a monarch complimented you. “But it wasn’t just us. Others fought alongside us - Missiletain and Minervus. They deserve just as much thanks as we do.”

“I see. Then they too have my gratitude.” He frowned then. “Although… Missiletain? That sounds familiar, somehow.” Her mother whispered up to him. “Ah, of course, from the Saga of the Twelve. It seems as though you might get along with this Missiletain, Owain! Isn’t that your favourite tale?”

Prince Owain stepped forward. He’d been in the shadows, so only now she realised he seemed more flustered than she’d ever seen him before. He kept darting glances towards her.

“I - yes, it is,” he said. He cleared his throat. “I’m sure I would like to meet him. Them. Someday.”

“Indeed,” said the Exalt. “Well, it’s good to see the heroes returning. Some believed the golden age ended when-” He broke off before restarting. “Some believed that heroes would not be needed after the events of twenty years ago. I see they were too optimistic. I give you leave to protect this city.”

Then the audience was over. She and Laslow stood there awkwardly as courtiers made their way over to them, cooing over their odd outfits and brave deeds. 

Then, Prince Owain was in front of her.

“Um,” he said. “Can we, uh, talk?”

Laslow grinned at her.  _I've got this_ , he seemed to say, silently, as he started up his flirty schtick. She peeled away from the crowd with the prince.

“So, uh, Fee,” he said. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s from Ribald Tales of the Faith War,” she said. “Uh, I don’t know if you like it or-”

“Oh no, Ribald Tales is amazing - truly, a masterwork of epic proportions! Dame Sumia - uh, sorry, that’s my uncle’s bodyguard, over there - introduced me to them when I told her I liked the Jugdralian legends.”

Ha! This wasn’t as hard as she thought it was going to be! Actually, it kinda reminded her of talking with Missiletain, oddly.

“So, how are you enjoying your work?” he asked nervously. “Is it fun being with the other heroes? Uh, well, not fun, but you know. Pleasant.”

“Yes! They’re great to work with!” Gods, she sounded like a merchant’s apprentice.

"That’s great that you get along with them!“ he said, with a slight stammer. "I hope you continue working well together!”

“Your Highness? Are you okay? Your face is getting all red.”

“Um, yes. I have, uh. A cold. It’s nothing serious. And you can just call me Owain, it’s fine.”

“Oh, um, are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said. “I’ve always admired heroes. I just had to meet the city’s newest protectors!”

Protectors. Elation filled her. “Right! I’ll do my best to stamp out evildoers!”

"Well then, Fee,“ he said meaningfully, "I’ll be counting on you.” Then, he grinned. “So, could you tell me of your fight? I hear there were at least thirty of them.”

***

This dump hadn’t seen the light of day in years. She grimaced as she felt the cobwebs trail over her when she accidentally scuffed her arm against a wall. She flicked them off, only for them to stick to her hands. Ugh. She bit back a curse - nobody could know she was here.

Ghost-silent, she moved through the building, searching. She found a suitable hiding spot. She crouched down and waited.

It didn’t take long. The front door crashed open. She was close enough that ragged breathing and heavy footfalls were audible. She readied her short-knife.

Nelson scuttled into the room and went immediately for the desk that would have been fancy years ago. He collapsed into the chair. A puff of dust exploded into the air. He didn’t even seem to notice; he just rifled through the desk’s compartments like a dog digging manically for treats.

From behind an antique cabinet, she held her breath and, with tiny steps, moved towards him. There was a creak, but he hadn’t noticed, too caught up in his search.

She came up behind him, knife outstretched, before leaping forward, pulling him back by the hair and holding the knife over his pulsating throat.

“Where’s Holland!?”

He twisted around completely, desperation causing him to move even as the knife dropped and left a shallow cut over his clavicles. Taken aback - weren’t people supposed to freeze with knives to their throat? - Severa lashed out. He leapt backwards, knocking into the table and grabbing some old purple book there.

“Filthy little traitor,” he said, smearing the blood with his hand before muttering something under his breath.

She narrowed her eyes at him, raising her weapon again. “There’s no one to protect you now! Where is he!? Tell me or I’ll-”

Something dark exploded from his fingertips, hitting her right in the stomach. She choked out a surprised sound - what the hell? - before realising, with dread- oh Gods. He was Grimleal. And all she had was a small knife. She'd screwed up. She'd screwed this up so bad.

She tried to retreat, but couldn’t - looking down, she gulped as she took in the dark shadows crawling over her skin, rooting her to the spot. She looked up as Nelson spat curses at her, coming forward with a look of murder on his face.

“You. It was you who betrayed us. Foolish child! I’ll leave your corpses together!”

He raised his hands and intoned. Though he spoke clearly now, the words were nonsensical. She struggled vainly, then stopped as mounting terror overwhelmed her senses. On the climax, his voice loud and echoing, his right hand swooping around in some archaic gesture, she closed her eyes tight.

Then, there was a whooshing noise and the sound of choking. Her eyes opened, almost automatically - Nelson was clawing at an arrow stuck in his throat. There was so much blood.

“Well, well," came a familiar voice from behind her and gods, she just wanted to burst into tears of relief, "Here I thought it was the wrong decade for Grimleal. I suppose it’s a vintage fashion now.”

Nelson tried to speak, but all he made were weird, distorted murmurs. He fell back onto the desk, rolling off it and onto the ground. She felt the spell dissipate and collapsed with a gasp. Father prodded Nelson, then nodded and kicked him for good measure. He turned his head back around towards her. He sent a gentle smile over to her.

“Lucky I had a bad feeling. He hurt you?”

“N-no, I’m fine.” Then tears sprung to her eyes. “But I still don’t know where Holland is. What if they kill him?”

“Holland?”

And then, she found herself recounting the whole sorry tale to him. How the Riders of Dawn had discovered her relationship to both the Exalt’s most talented bodyguard and the greatest thief in the city and thought her the perfect pawn. How they’d kidnapped Holland to force her to do their bidding. How she’d actually found herself being scarily competent at being bad and how it had felt so amazing to actually be good at something. How, realising people would think he had done it, she’d tipped off the vigilantes to take out his protectors so she could rescue Holland and their family would get out of the mess clean.

“And even still, I wasn’t able to get his location or anything! He took me out, just like that. I’m a failure.”

“Be fair to yourself. There was no way to tell this guy was Grimleal. Even I thought they were all rooted out of the city. I'll have to set up a meeting with the old Shepherd Squad.” He picked up the book. “And get this to Tharja. She'll know how to deal with it."

“But I stole from your friend,” she said.

He ruffled her hair like she was a kid. “Not gonna lie, I’d have preferred it if your first experience with thievery was slightly less risky. But hey, I’m not exactly the right guy to judge a person for doing a shady job to save a stranger.”

One of his old stories came back to her then, about a duke’s daughter and a frame-job. He’d not painted that one in a good light, she remembered now. It had been a cautionary tale. And she’d ignored it. She hung her head.

“Hey. Look. I’m actually kinda impressed. You stole from Anna and she didn’t catch you. You’re a natural.”

“Are - are you going to tell mother?”

She didn’t think she could stand for Mother to look down at her even more than she must already. Things were bad enough already.

He looked at her a moment, then smiled. “No, I don’t think so. And anyway, you really have talent here. If you want, I could show you how to use it properly.”

“What?!”

He grinned. “Hey, just because you’re a natural doesn’t mean you’re better than your old man yet. And we have to save this guy, right? Sometimes the sneaky skills are what you need. Why do you think they let me into the resistance all those years ago, hm?”

“You’ll really teach me?”

“Thief’s honour.”


End file.
